


my body is a cage

by thesecondsmile



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Body Horror, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Discussion of Abortion, Established Relationship, Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Omega Bucky Barnes, Pregnancy, Self-Harm, Trauma, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecondsmile/pseuds/thesecondsmile
Summary: Bucky is healing after his seventy-year ordeal with the help of his mate, Steve.  Then, something slips through and he must navigate his complex relationship with his body along with his feelings towards his growing problem.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	my body is a cage

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title taken from 'My Body is a Cage' by Peter Gabriel.
> 
> Warnings: this fic is not a fluffy pregnancy fic, so please heed the tags!

There are good days and bad days.

The good days begin with him rising from a restful sleep, coming out of unconsciousness slowly and feeling soft light touch his eyelids and a warm presence next to him. A happy Alpha rumble that seems to almost wrap around him. Hands that have mapped every part of his body brush tenderly through his hair and he revels in the soft intimacy of the moment.

They lie in bed for a precious few minutes as the sun unfurls itself in the sky, bathing the earth in rays of warmth. No words are needed in this space, just the comforting companionship of two men older than everything else on the earth. The burden of the world weighs heavy on their shoulders, but there is nothing but airy lightness in the room.

When they finally rouse themselves, it is with lazy and relaxed movements, joints stretching into wakefulness with the luxury of time. He gets up on shaky, newborn legs and lets his mate lead him slowly into a fragile new day. They pad softly to the common room where everything is instantly more awake. A happy energy thrums through the room even with the undercurrent of excited chaos that accompanies it. Even the friendly heated arguments about the practicality of a proactive garbage bin and edible projectiles flying through the air only add to the peacefulness of the atmosphere. 

He eats a breakfast of fluffy, homemade pancakes with a indulgent amount of syrup along with a bowl of seasonal fruit to satisfy his sweet tooth and (cursorily) his fibre intake. Steve is right there beside him, mowing through a carton of eggs while reading the morning paper. It is routine and it is reassuring.

The rest of the day is alternately spent lazing around with books, movies or puzzles and the like that make Bucky feel safe and happy, or if he is feeling more adventurous that particular day, to the dog park or the bakery. Both options are with his mate sweetly holding his hand or not far from his side. Life is uneventful but never dull and Bucky feels at peace. 

At night, they cuddle together as if they would still freeze if they didn’t, but this time, there is no need to pretend that their lack of distance is anything but a choice made freely and eagerly. He shrouds them in warm, cosy blankets selected with the utmost care to produce the most comforting nest that makes his heart purr in satisfaction. 

It is soft and gentle and delicate and all of these days he whispers a quiet thanks that somebody loves him and treats him like a precious thing, like he matters, even if the truth may be very different. 

This is the happy ending that he had always dreamed of as a young Omega from a rough neighbourhood and checkered home life but an Alpha he loved with all of his heart. It might not have happened the way he wanted, with far more bloodshed and sorrow than anyone could bear, but they had made it eventually, and there was so much beauty to see in this new world. It is all he has ever hoped for, and every time the two lovers leave the tower with shoulders bumping shyly to explore something different is a balm to his soul. 

But there are also bad days.

Days where he never quite wakes up because he stays trapped in the nightmare of a memory of the nightmare of an aftermath of seventy years of torture or because he never went to sleep in the first place. Days where even Steve’s familiar hands feel like lashings of burning laughter and every touch comes with an order which then brings pain. Days where he can’t forget that food no longer means poison injected into his veins to keep his body alive for another decade of misery.

On those days, he doesn’t leave the bed. He huddles himself in a fortress of blankets as if cotton alone could protect him from the evils that reside in him and around him. He tries just as desperately to hold on to the memories of his Alpha and the knowledge that no harm will befall him as long as his mate shall live. Not again, at least.

Steve tries to ply him with sweet things and whispered reminders that he is not alone anymore but every honeyed word and sugared treat makes him flinch from too many years of lies and deceit that have made it difficult to trust. 

There is nothing good about the day and certainly nothing good enough to risk venturing out into the open and losing whatever semblance of security he has fooled his mind into believing. All the while Steve stays next to him, a steady presence that sometimes haunts more than it heals, though he would never dare say that out loud.

The same way that he never lets loose the traitorous thoughts that he sometimes feels like his mate had left him helpless and scared and left him to the dogs that had twisted him beyond recognition and sometimes he  _ hates _ and his skin crawls and he just wants to scream  _ WHY ME WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS. _

He doesn’t say anything because it would make his Alpha’s face twist into that horrible expression that makes him crave death more than any punishment had because it had stripped the joy from his Alpha’s being. It would positively  _ destroy  _ the man that he loves more than himself so he lets the words kill him from inside instead.

He lets his mate wrap him in warm arms and try to lull him to sleep with desperately sweet nothings that do nothing to fix him. And when the day is over, he wakes up to a gentle shower of sunlight and a comforting body pressed against his and he feels like everything might be okay again. 

As a whole, he’s hanging on, but just by a thread. Any more weight, and he just might  _ snap. _

**Author's Note:**

> !! bit of a different work for me, but I wanted to try and write some of my feelings out because while pregnancy is seen like such a wonderful, intimate and incredible experience where you are able to give life, I can't help but feel immensely disturbed by the prospect of something growing inside my body at the same time. Thus, this fic emerged out of my desire to explore this subject and I felt like Bucky, with his other issues with his body, would be an excellent character to do this through.
> 
> First chapter is still just introductory but it does get darker and more disturbed from here so beware! Anyway, let me know what you think about this, eager to hear your thoughts :)


End file.
